We Put the 'Fun' in Funeral
by Shevy B
Summary: During the war, the majority of the magical population pretended everything was fine and dandy. Others were petrified with fear. And some accepted death with open arms. Those people began planning what they would like for their funeral. One of the people who planned his death was Fred Weasley. Oneshot!


**We Put the 'Fun' in Funeral**

The Second Wizarding War proposed a death toll even higher than the first. If you were fighting for the Order, or even an innocent bystander, then you already had a very clear idea that you were going to die.

The majority of the magical population pretended everything was fine and dandy. Others were petrified with fear. And some accepted death with open arms.

The people who had come to reality pulled out their parchment and quill to write down a will. Some even began planning what they would like for their funeral.

One of those people who planned their death was Fred Weasley.

Fred had everything planned out for his fateful day. His casket was to be closed (what if my hair gets messed up when I'm dying?), the reception to have refilling bowls of Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans (but don't tell anyone. Imagine the surprise when someone bites into an ordinary sweet that turns out to be grass flavored!), and his name to be spelled in the sky with fireworks!

But no tears. This was a celebration of his life, his accomplishments, not his death.

One boring Friday night, Fred even went as far to design the invites for his funeral. He spent quite a while, and was quite pleased with the end result.

 **You're Invited to**

 **FRED** **ERIC** **WEASLEY'S MEMORIAL SERVICE**

 **(Insert date and time here)**

 **We're putting the FUN in** **fun** **eral!**

 **An evening of fine dining, fireworks,**

 **and tons of pictures of me that my mum**

 **is going to make you look at!**

 **(Try not to barf when she gets**

 **around to the naked baby pictures)**

 **NO CRYING ALLOWED**

He and George had quite the laugh over his invitation, and George told Fred that if he ever bit the dust, that these invites would be sent out. Fred gave him a mock salute and said, "Thank you, my brother."

It was all fun and games at the time, but George felt a lump in his throat rising as he tied the last one of Fred's handcrafted invitations onto an owl. Now it wasn't just a 'insert time and date here', it was real. A set date. A set time.

A time for everyone to mourn Fred Weasley.

The owl took off with a hoot, and George unthinkingly rubbed the spot where his ear used to be. When You-Know-Who had died, George had wanted to jump up and down with joy... But how could you be joyful when your brother, your best friend died?

 _Flashback..._

" _George! Oi, Georgie! Lighten up!" Fred said. "You look like someone just murdered your newborn puppy."_

" _Oh, c'mon, Fred. I've got a right to be sad. I'm missing my ear," George said gesturing to the gap that was once his ear._

" _Eh, people are facing worse losses than your ear. Cheer up! What's the point in war if you can't have a laugh about the scars it leaves?"_

" _Did you just say something insightful?" George asked._

" _No, it just sort've came out. I guess I've been reading too many fortune cookies..."_

" _Fred, what if one of us dies in the war?"_

" _Wow, ray of sunshine you are."_

" _It could happen!"_

" _Yeah, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."_

" _Don't pretend like you haven't been thinking the same thing. I saw the will you were writing the other day. By the way, thanks for letting me take full ownership of Weasley Wizard Wheezes if you croak."_

" _Ha, ha, ha," Fred replied sarcastically. "Ok, I've been thinking about it. I just want to be prepared. Can we talk about something more fun now?"_

" _This is serious, Fred-"_

" _Neither of us do serious very well-"_

" _But what if-"_

" _Stoppit-_

" _Fred!" George exclaimed. "I just... I just want to make a pact, right now. A promise. If one of us dies in war, and the other lives, we're not going to spend hours sobbing over them, we're gonna move on!"_

" _Do you really think that could happen?"_

" _Yeah, it could."_

" _Alright, deal. No tears."_

" _Good."_

" _Fine."_

" _Alright then."_

George smiled at the memory, and then cursed under his breath as he realized a tear was streaking down his cheek.

"It's ok to cry, y'know," a voice said. George turned around and saw Ginny leaning against the door frame. "Mum sure has done a lot of it recently."

"Mum has shed enough tears to fill the Thames," George joked halfheartedly. "Me, cry though? I'd get red eyes."

"So?" Ginny asked.

"I'd look like the reincarnation of You-Know-Who with red eyes," George pointed out.

"Nope, you've still got a nose," Ginny joked.

George tried to laugh but was surprised when instead of his heartfelt laughter, a sob worked its way out of his throat.

"Oh look at what you've done, Ginny," George said. "You've made me cry! Shame, shame."

"What's so wrong about crying?" Ginny asked.

"It's just... Wrong," George said evading the question.

"Wrong? Why wrong? Tears are just a way to show other people how you feel," Ginny fired.

"But I'm not sad!" George insisted. "You-Know-Who is dead! I'm fine and dandy!"

"It's Ok to be happy and sad at the same time."

"Only girls can handle that many emotions at once," George counter.

Ginny cracked a watery smile and said, "You feel happy about You-Know-Who's death, but you can't be happy right now, because Fred's dead."

"How'd you know?" George asked hoarsely.

"Because it's the same way I've been feeling too," Ginny said before turning and walking away.

 **...**

The funeral was fun in the end. Despite what the invitation said, everyone cried at some point during the memorial and reception. But that was Ok. They weren't sad tears, they were happy tears. The funeral was a celebration of Fred's life and accomplishments, not his death. The tears were for the moments that should've been. Could've been. Never will be.

As George watched the fireworks overhead after the reception he thought to himself, 'Fred definitely put the 'fun' in funeral'.

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